


Walk Through the Shadows

by bakedgoldfish



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e09 Bartlet for America
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-24
Updated: 2003-02-24
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakedgoldfish/pseuds/bakedgoldfish
Summary: It's a long road to Canaan.





	Walk Through the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Walk Through the Shadows**

**by:** Baked Goldfish 

**Category:** Leo, Cliff (Josh and Donna make cameos, but nothing shippy)  
**Rating:** YTEEN (for one little word)  
**Spoilers:** Spoiler: Bartlet For America (I want to marry this episode.)  
**Summary:** It's a long road to Canaan.  
**Disclaimer:** I love Leo, but I don't own him.  I like Cliff a lot, but I don't own him.  Josh and Donna, I'm friendly to; however, I don't own them either.  And I got the summary from Paul Simon, who I also don't own.  So please don't sue me, 'kay?  


"I don't know what happened." 

"Josh?" 

His head snapped up, turning away from the television.  "Donna ... hey." 

She stepped further into the room, almost hesitantly.  "You don't know what happened with what?" 

"With the-"  He motioned to the television.  "Bruno called a recess, right in the middle of Gibson's inquiries.  I don't know-"  He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.  "Never mind." 

"Okay," she muttered.  "I just passed Sam in the hallway." 

"Okay," he said, going back to staring distractedly at the television, even though C-Span had long since started showing commentary on the hearings he'd just seen.  "I ... you going home now?" 

"Do I live at my desk?" 

He glanced at her again, and went back to staring at the set.  "Okay."  She left, and a few moments later, he turned the television off. 

When he sat back down at his desk, Donna came in again.  He stared at her in confusion.  "Weren't you just in here?" 

"Leo's on line one," she told him.  

He picked up the phone and said, "Leo, what happened in there?" 

"I ... Josh, who was it Donna went out with, who saw the diary?  Cliff ... something?" 

"Leo-" 

"Josh, was it Cliff Calley?  The majority counsel?" 

"Yeah," Josh replied.  "Listen, are you okay?" 

He fingered the small, silver frame that he'd been holding on to for the past five minutes.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I'm ... listen, I need to talk to Donna." 

"Is there something I can do-" 

"Josh, could you just ... just send Donna over, okay?  Is she still there?" 

Josh put the phone to his shoulder and yelled, "Donna!" 

She came in promptly, a frown on her face.  "You don't have to scream-  
" 

"Leo needs to see you," he said quietly; his voice was emotionless, and his face blank.  "He wants you in his office right away." 

She nodded, turning somber herself.  She made it to Leo's office quickly, and stepped inside from the hallway door.  He was at his desk, staring intently at a small silver frame; he had not noticed her entrance.  "Leo?" 

He looked up at her abruptly, and almost put the frame down on his desk.  "Donna, thanks for stopping by." 

"No problem," she replied, sitting down.  "What do you need?" 

He laid the frame down on his desk, his fingers still touching it.  "You briefly dated Cliff Calley, right?" 

She nodded, and a knot began to form in her stomach.  Leo knew about Cliff.  Leo knew about her screw up, and Leo knew about the diary.  But she didn't question his inquiry. 

"I need you to call him and tell him you'll meet him tonight." 

A few moments later, she realized that she had been staring at him.  "You need me to-" 

"Donna, please," he said quietly.  "I just ... you don't have to go.  Just tell him to meet you somewhere quiet." 

"Okay," she nodded.  "I don't have the number on me, can I ... " 

"Yeah," he said.  As she walked to the door, he added, "Just let Josh know where you're gonna be.  And go home." 

She turned to him, getting it.  "Yeah," she replied quietly. 

He waited in the dark for a few minutes after she left; picking up the frame, he slipped it in his coat pocket and stood up.  He walked down the quiet, deserted halls, his head down, and one hand in his pocket, fingering a sharp metal edge.  Pausing at Josh's door, he took a deep breath and put his other hand in his other pocket.  

"Josh." 

Josh looked up from the work he'd been doing.  "Leo.  What happened-" 

"Is Donna around?" 

He shook his head and answered, "She just left, to talk to some friend of hers.  You need to talk to her again?" 

"Yeah, I-"  He shook his head absently.  "I forgot to ask her something.  You know where she is?" 

"She left an address," Josh replied, pushing the slip of paper towards Leo.  "Leo?" 

He took the paper with his free hand and glanced down at it before crumpling it up.  "Yeah?" 

"What happened tonight?" 

Blinking nervously, he shook his head.  "I'm not sure," he said softly.  "I'll be back later, Josh." 

"You sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah." 

[-----] 

The address Donna had given him was near an empty alley, and Cliff looked around nervously while he waited for her.  The street was dark, with the streetlight closest to him busted dead, and he heard loud cursing somewhere around him; there were shadows everywhere, sharp and dark, and voices emerged from them, the speakers hidden from view.  The sky was corrupted with clouds, reflecting in an almost bloody haze the lights from the city below, but illuminating nothing.  The occasional car passed by, low-riders and loud.  He checked his watch for the fifth time that minute, and puffed out his breath, watching it condense in the cold night air. 

"Cliff Calley?" 

He turned at the sound of his name, startled that it wasn't Donna.  "Mr. McGarry, hi," he stuttered, holding out his hand. 

Leo shook it, and said, "Call me Leo.  Donna's not coming tonight." 

Swallowing hard, Cliff glanced around.  "Mr. McGarry-" 

"It's Leo," he interrupted. 

"We can't talk," Cliff stated, staring him in the eyes.  If McGarry was nervous, it didn't show at all; his face was a mask, and his posture was casual, with both hands stuffed in his pockets and his scarf blowing lightly in the chill wind.  "If this is about the inquiry, we can't talk." 

"Cliff, I need to know." 

He shook his head.  "Mr. McGarry, you know I can't talk to you," he said again.  "Anything you say to me ... I can't talk to you." 

Leo nodded, and began walking; Cliff fell into step beside him, barely making out his sillhouette in the seeping darkness.  "I can understand that.  I want to talk to you anyway." 

"You should have your counsel with you, then." 

"I'm a lawyer, I know that," he stated.  "I don't care.  I need to know why you did it." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cliff lied, glancing around nervously.  "Sir, if there are members of the press around here-" 

"There were three OD's and a drive-by here in the past week alone," he interrupted.  "It's not the kind of neighborhood the press would wanna be caught in after dark." 

His nervousness intensified, and he asked, "Aren't you afraid you'll get mugged?" 

"No," Leo replied.  He stopped abruptly and looked up; the sky was hazy, as it always was in the city, and bright from the streetlights and buildings.  "Cliff, let's say you're in court.  You're a prosecutor, and there's this defendant." 

He stared at Leo for a moment before nodding.  "All right." 

"He's being charged with burglary, okay?"  He glanced at Cliff before turning back to the night sky.  "And you got nothin' on him for it, but the guy's got a rap sheet as long as your arm.  No burglaries, though, just ... just drug deals, or disturbing the peace or something." 

"Okay," Cliff said cautiously.  "Mr. McGarry-" 

Turning suddenly to face him, Leo said, "You need to get the jury on your side, Cliff.  You can do it by tellin' the jury about the other stuff." 

"Yeah," Cliff agreed.  "But the case isn't about his priors.  It's about the burglary."  He regarded Leo in the light of the streetlamp, took in the shadows that crossed his face, took in the light that was burning in his eyes; gone was the mask, and in its place was a type of haggardness that Cliff had never seen before.  "You don't try a man for what he's already done time for.  You don't play to win, you play to find out the truth, and that's all you play for.  And let's say the other stuff was years ago, and the guy's a good man.  Let's say he's done a lot of good things, and helped people even when they didn't deserve it, and that he doesn't deserve to relive all that other crap just because some asshole's on a witch hunt." 

He swallowed hard, and the cold was making him shiver.  "But it would help your case," Leo replied.  "If you-"  

"You don't do it, because it's not what the case is about," Cliff interrupted.  "You don't do it, because the guy's paid his debt to society, and he's paid his debt to his family, and he already feels bad about the other stuff because he thinks he let everyone down and it hurts just to think about it."  He waited for a response; when he didn't get one, he softly added, "You don't hurt for hurting's sake, sir.  You don't do it, because it's wrong."  

"Cliff-"  He cut himself off, not sure what he wanted to say.  "I-"  Again, he stopped, shaking his head and grasping the cool frame in his pocket with trembling fingers. 

Turning his collar up against the cold, Cliff glanced away.  Turning back to Leo, he gave half a smile and said, "Well, that's how I'd try that burglary case, anyway.  Merry Christmas, Mr. McGarry."  He turned and walked down the street, his body melting into the darkness.  

Leo stood in the shadow of the lamplight a long while after Cliff left, his hands still in his coat pockets.  Eyes turned inward, he turned around and started walking to his car, a few blocks away.  A door opened as he walked down the lonely street, and suddenly the air was filled with the sounds of loud music and the smell of liquor.  A few young people stumbled out, laughing and drunk: students.  Georgetown, he thought, or perhaps American University. 

The door closed, and the students walked off, and he was left standing there in front of the bar with nobody around for a few blocks.  The scent of alcohol was still in the air, bitter and welcoming and warm in the cold night, and his wallet was full of cash.  The door opened again, and the patron who was leaving saw him and held it open. 

Leo shook his head.  His fingers clasped the frame in his pocket, and he walked away. 

-end- 


End file.
